Jeff the Killer: Surprise
by XxItaChanxX
Summary: [Sequel to Jeff the Killer - Not Expected] A year has passed since Jessie and Jeff were separated and now the drama is about to start up again. After escaping from the mental institution, Jessie sets out to find her lost love who she cannot remember, while Jeff is forced to cope with his loss from a year prior. Will these two encounter again? And if they do, what will happen?
1. Prologue

**HEYA GUYS!**

**XxItaChanxX here [The writer of this story] with a message for all you readers out there!**

**The first thing to get out of the way here is that this isn't a normal story, this is a sequel. The original story is called 'Jeff the Killer - Not Expected' and it's quite a long one. If you want to understand anything in this story just, you'll need to read that first.**

**You can find it on my account page under its name :)**

**Anyway, a new chapter begins in the world of Jeff the Killer and his friends and lost love...**

**Let's begin, shall we? :)**

**~Ciao**

* * *

**Prologue**

Being trapped was most definitely the one thing that Jessie Walker couldn't handle anymore.

The insanity that the 'experts' claimed that others like her in the institute suffered from and attempted to convince them and her alike – despite having no actual evidence of her having any psychological or mental health issues – that they could be saved from, was nothing compared to the immense pain and suffering of being confined to one building, one room, one person to actually talk to, and no place to call home. Being imprisoned in a building and told what to do and how do it, with the fear of punishment and being completely isolated form any human contact, and worst of all, not being allowed to go outside the bared wired gates of the institute, were the few things driving her to the brink of insanity.

She sat in the office of her psychiatrist, her hands supporting her cheeks and her elbows on the mahogany desk; she sat in the patient's side of the desk, glaring out the barred window to the glistening city lights of the urban night sky, which she was constantly being told she could never witness or dazzle at from anywhere except inside the walls of the mental-health institution. She knew that it must've been terrible for the members of staff at the hospital to have offices with bars on the windows; it must've made them feel like prisoners herself – it was no wonder why most of them hated their jobs.

She had been stuck in the facilities for just about a year now and she had made no improvements according to the doctors. Her memories that went beyond the massacre were virtually non-existent and she showed no signs of knowing why, how or even when she had murdered her parents, friends and classmates; she was convinced for the longest time that the event never really happened and that the hospital's members of staff were keeping her there for unjust reasoning just because they could however, after a couple of months, the confused teenager began to research into her past by asking the gossiping nurses, reading newspapers from around the time of the incident, and reading up on the testimony of the last survivor of the massacre – Anthony Williams, Jessie's previous best friend and next door neighbour – and managed to put everything together and realised that she must've been the one who committed the murders.

The instant she grasped the facts, her disgust and hatred for her own being grew and became a bubble of dark matter that engulfed her already broken and damaged heart, dragging her down and not allowing her to even attempt to do as the doctors and nurses said and try to help herself. She didn't consider herself a bad and uncooperative patient, she just didn't know why they were all trying to help a murderer who would sink so low as to kill her own family and friends for – as far as she could tell – no reason at all; in her eyes, there was no point in trying to regain her memories or become a normal human being. Society would never take her back, no one wanted to help her or even give her the time of day.

Everyone hated her.

The doctors did eventually figure out what was wrong with her after a few months. When she arrived and a mystery individual had dropped her off to the hospital, they instantly realised that she had a large gash on the back of her head, causing a small concussion and damaged to her hippocampus within the brain, effecting not her long term or short term memories as that kind of damage usually does, but all of her memories from before she arrived to the hospital. She had no memories of anything that she had done, meaning that she had no idea that she was a serial killer or who she killed; she had eventually displayed signs of being an ordinary teenage girl and someone who would never even think of harming another person, however because of what she had done and the ripple effect because of it, they couldn't release her from incarceration just yet. She would have to stay at the hospital until she remembered what she had done, just in case she miraculously recalled everything while she was released and killed again, and then she could go through the ordinary procedures of a serial killer; she would be taken to court if she remembered what she did, but there was no point since she would plead for insanity or for not being in control of her actions, meaning that justice couldn't be served. It was for the safety of the public, and all of them felt safer now that she was trapped in the hospital and can't get out.

Jessie sighed and rested her head on her crossed arms, her eyes shut as she listened to the radio. She only ever got a chance to listen to the BBC radio channel when she was waiting for her psychiatrist, Dr. Fredrick, in her office; she always left the radio on for Jessie when she waited for her so she had something nice to do. The patients weren't allowed to do a lot in the hospital, so Dr. Fredrick wanted to make Jessie feel as though she had a chance to be a normal person and use something that she didn't have access to in the hospital – even if it was for a small amount of time.

Jessie liked Dr. Fredrick a lot. She was one of the only people in the hospital that treated her like a person rather than just another patient she had to deal with.

The soothing voice of the man reading the news was contrasted with the seriousness of the topic he was speaking about, which was actually Jessie.

"_It has been nearly a year now since the Oxford Jeff Replica Murders, and all of our hearts reach out to the families and loved ones effected by the cold killings. The teenagers Jonathan-."_

Jessie researched into the people that the doctors said she had killed, including John, Sally, Lavinne and Ann-Ann. Three of them were close friends of hers, but even now she couldn't remember their names; as the BBC radio man read out their names and listed how their families were suffering and coping with their deaths almost a year later, Jessie glanced over to her file, which laid on Dr. Frederick's desk, wondering whether she should bother reading it or not. It may be her last chance to see what the doctor and the hospital really thought of her, although that didn't matter to her anymore.

"…_and the parents of the criminal, Jessie Walker."_

There was her name.

"_The teenager in question was an ordinary girl with a not-so-ordinary hobby, which many of her classmates comment on in interviews about her. She liked to research into famous and not-so-famous serial killers, and take notes on them. After the killings, the police searched her house and found countless books, DVD's and her internet research was covered in information about serial killers and their pasts and crimes. Her classmates state that she never explained why she did this, but it was worrying, however one of her best friends, and the last survivor of the massacre, Anthony Williams, stated that none of the other students knew about the habit except for her close friends because she was self-conscious about sharing information about herself with anyone, let alone her fellow pupils."_

Anthony was the one friend that Jessie heard about the most because he was the one who survived. She hadn't taken an attempt on his life apparently, despite the fact that he ended up in hospital when the events were over. He had taken an attempt at _his own_ life when discovering that Sally Simmonds was dead and gone; they, and Jessie Walker, were a tight-nit group of friends that would've done anything for each other, so when he found out that Jessie had killed her and could be on her way to kill him too, he had decided that taking himself out would've been a good way of escaping his terrible fate and preventing his friend from doing something she'd regret.

Jessie was interested in this friend in particular because he was sill alive; she wondered why she hadn't killed him back then.

"…_and escaped. Jessie Walker is now in the West-End Institute for Mental Recovery and is being kept there because her memories had been wiped clean after a mysterious blow to the head ailed her just before a mystery man or women brought her to the hospital and left her unconscious on their door-step. Some believe that she had passes out after traveling to the hospital herself when she suffered her head injury, thinking that it was an ordinary hospital, or because she wanted to turn herself in knowing that she was insane and needed the help, however there is much question how she got through the gates of the hospital considering the security._

_The girl is considered a Jeff the Killer follower because of her excessive amounts of information on the American murderer. This would explain why the first killings in Oxfordshire around that time were done in an almost identical manner to Jeff the Killer; back then, the majority of people believed that the killings were committed by the infamous man himself, however now we can strongly assume that the murders were committed by Jessie. Some believe that we cannot assume something like that because of insufficient evidence, however the likelihood of this being the case is extremely likely."_

Jessie had had enough of the radio and hearing about this 'Jeff the Killer' that she was believed to be obsessed with; she didn't now much about him as a serial killer, but she knew that he was someone that she didn't want to research or try and learn more about. He couldn't be that special if she didn't remember him now. She stopped listening, but still kept the machine on, so that she didn't feel completely alone in the room.

She really wanted to talk to Dr. Fredrick that day. Recently, she had been feeling different and needed someone to talk to about it. She didn't know if it was because everyone was talking about the murders she committed or because she felt like she was going crazy being locked away in the hospital, but she felt as though she was beginning to get this urge inside her. This urge to do things that she never thought she would ever do and it was eating her up inside.

Her large, dark eyes wondered towards the end of the desk, where there laid two objects, a bull-point pen and a letter-opening knife. She didn't even think that people used those knives anymore, especially someone as young as Dr. Fredrick, but maybe it was just for show. The two objects were covered in a running, red liquid that leaked and dripped from the once clean desk to the light blue carpet, along with Jessie's caramel coloured hands, since they were covered in it as well and now – because of her putting her hands on her face – her face was as well.

"I guess I should get up and get going, huh, Doctor…?"

Jessie's eyes drifted to the floor, which had a large puddle of dark, thick blood that stained the carpet. Next to the large pile was the body of Dr. Fredrick. Her back had been stabbed many times with the bull-point pen, and then her front and legs had been stabbed multiple times by the knife; she was laid on her front, so Jessie could see clearly where she had gouged out her eyeballs and cut out her tongue, allowing for blood to leak from her mouth and drip to the dead head's side.

"I'm sorry, Doctor…" Jessie whispered almost silently. "…but now I can escape."

The murderer got to her feet and walked around to the other side of the desk; she opened one of the draws and found Dr. Fredrick's car keys sitting on top of a pile of papers. Calmly, she picked them up and held them tightly in her dark hands as she made her way to the dead body and hovered over it, still wearing her grey, dull hospital gown that she despised so much; her once shoulder-length, midnight-colored hair had grown to be down the middle of her back. She didn't have a specific agenda to grow it out, but she couldn't be bothered to cut either.

"Now I can leave this place…and be free again…and find _him_…"

~:~

_**One Year Previous:**_

_I remember a guy._

_I don't know what his name is or what he looks like, but I remember what he sounds like. He had a groggy voice, like he was a smoker. And I remember him telling me things that I don't quite understand. _

_Like, I remember him saying that if I used a certain kind of conditioner on him, he'd smell like a strawberry...no, wait, he said he'd smell like a girl and I said that he'd smell like a strawberry._

_And I remember him saying that we were monsters once._

_I also remember him saying that he liked a gamer called…P…Pewdiepie…because I used to watch him game._

_And…and I remember him saying…that…he loved me…_

_I don't remember who he was._

_I want to remember…_

_I want to remember who he was._


	2. Chapter 1: The New Beginning

**Chapter One**

**The New Beginning**

A year had passed and the apartments where the monsters and killers resided hadn't changed in appearance or stature in those three-hundred and sixty-five days, however the atmosphere around the area that Jeff had lived in had changed from being relaxing and generally joyful and socially active, to stressful, quiet and it was a genuinely uncomfortable struggle to be there everyday for one reason and one reason only – Jeff the Killer.

"Jeff! Jeff! Where are you?!"

BEN – the gaming geek and Internet exploring (in the literal sense, not the figurative sense) killer who strongly resembled the protagonist _Link _from _The Legend of Zelda _franchise – was sprinting around his section of the apartments, searching for his best friend and roommate franticly, nearly on the brink of tears. He hadn't seen the murderer since the night before and wasn't told whether he was going anywhere or not, and he needed to know where he was immediately.

For the past year, Jeff had spent his time either being depressed and staying in his room, not speaking to anyone and crying by himself, or he had been going out to town and committing even worse atrocities than he had been doing before – and the Jeff from a year ago was a hard act to follow in that respect. There had been times since then that BEN was forced to go and pick Jeff up from the city because he had been caught by the police for a split second, and he had to stab them and run or people around the street had seen him; he had never been caught before. He was always so charismatic and easily managed to get out of tight situations without breaking a sweat back before he had traveled to England. Nowadays though, if BEN knew that he was going to the city, he would follow him and make sure that he didn't get into too much trouble.

The gamer thought that the breakdown over Jessie and the events of the past year would've let up after a couple of months, maybe half a year at the most, however the situation had only gotten worse. The teenage killer didn't speak to anyone, he ran off on his own, he got himself into difficult situations and was worrying everyone in the apartment block that cared about him, especially BEN.

The night before, BEN had seen Jeff in his room, simply laying on his bed and listening to rock music, while staring at the ceiling. When the child with an adult mind tried to ask the killer whether he wanted to come and eat with the rest of the apartment building – Masky and Hoody usually did the cooking around the place when they were around, and everyone enjoyed their cooking skills – Jeff turned him away coldly and told him to stop trying coddle him as if he were a child. BEN found this statement hilarious and frustrating at the same time considering how many times he'd had to go and save Jeff from the police or the general public in the last year, and the killer repaid his roommate by telling him stop helping him? What a jerk he was. They ended up arguing for around half an hour before BEN left Jeff in their room and rested with Sally for the night instead. When he woke up and went to make amends with his roommate, he was gone.

Hysterically, BEN burst through the door of the lounge, finding Eyeless Jack sitting on the couch, a book on human biology in cold, grey hand and a dull expression on his face, under his mask – that is until he saw how stressed BEN seemed and displayed his concerning look as a result.

"Jack…" BEN gasped. "Have you seen Jeff…?"

The cannibal got to his feet and ran over to the fellow killer, discarding his book on the couch. "No, what's wrong?"

"We argued yesterday and when I went to apologies to him, he was gone! I don't know where he is!"

"Relax, BEN." He placed his hand on the top of the blonds' head. "You can't protect him all the time. He's probably in the city blowing some steam."

The Link-lookalike gazed up at his friend with tears in his dark, bleeding eyes. "But that's what I'm afraid of! If he gets too crazy, he could get in trouble, and I said that I would stick by him no matter what! I left him alone and now he-."

"Stop." Jack interrupted. "You need to calm down, BEN."

"But-!"

"_**Jack's right, BEN."**_

At that moment, the keeper of the apartment complex, the faceless notorious child kidnapper and killer – the Slenderman – teleported into the room behind the two killers; BEN and Jack were used to this, but anyone else would become startled by the sudden appearance. Even Jeff can't handle it sometimes and yelled at his superior for scaring him.

"Slender…" BEN whispered almost silently as he turned to look at the tall individual in the black suit.

"_**You need to relax, BEN."**_

His voice was echoed due to the fact that he never actually spoke when he had conversations with others; his voice traveled through the others' heads and they had telepathic conversation – considering the fact that he had no face, this really made sense. No one ever used their minds to talk back to him, even though it was entirely possible, because they just never thought to. They spoke automatically when talking to him. It was just habit. To an outsider who didn't know anything about the conversation, it seemed as though Jack and BEN were speaking to Slenderman without actually letting him respond.

"But Slender, Jeff's disappeared! We need to go and find him!" BEN's tears had begun to merge with the blood that rested within his eyes, and fall to the floor in crimson, translucent droplets.

"_**He hasn't disappeared, BEN. I know where he is."**_

A look that appeared to be a mixture of relief and confusion appeared on BEN's face, as he wiped his bloody tears away, getting the deep red liquid all over the back of his thin, pale arm. "Did he go to the city? And how do you know where he is?"

"_**You forget that I can track the thoughts of you all, BEN. I saw him leave. He's heading to the city to relieve himself of his anger for today."**_

BEN jolted. "Then we need to go after him! He can't be by himself!"

"_**I'll monitor his thoughts. Don't worry, I'll deal with this."**_

Eyeless Jack gazed over to the sobbing child next to him, and under his mask, he had a sorrowful look on his demonized face; he wondered how such an amazing pair of friends, who told each other everything and were practically inseparable a year ago, could become so distant just because of one event and one girl, and how Jeff could hurt BEN like this because of it. The two would do anything for each other, but at that moment, Jeff was pushing his best friend away, when what he needed was to keep him close and had been for a whole year now. Everyone in the apartment building was extremely depressed watching them separate.

The giant in front of the youths turned around and began to walk out of the room, when he paused and turned is blank face back around.

"_**BEN, Jeff's a strong boy. He'll be okay…"**_

And with that, the leader of the group of monsters wondered out of the room, which was a rare occurrence since the child killer loved to teleport around the place. The blond child continued to wipe his tears away onto the back of his arms as Eyeless Jack placed his hand over BEN's head, where Slenderman's large, paper-white hand was, and rubbed the top of it.

This was the first time that the cannibal had thought of BEN as an actual child. He was crying, his nose was running, his eyes were turning even redder than they already were and his whines were those of a seven-year-old boy. The relentless and intellectual BEN DROWNED, who owned the internet and sent grown men to insanity and eventually, their deaths, was crying over his friend drifting from him.

"_If only Jeff realised how much he's making BEN suffer right now…" _Jack thought to himself. _"I wish he would stop being such a little shit and get back here already…"_

~:~

"…_and the kitten was saved by the firemen, however the whole building was scorched and burnt down to the ground and the cost for recovery of the building will be extremely large for the city to pay, and the residence of the building will have to find another place to stay until the building is recovered. They are all very distressed and upset at the circumstances. In other news…."_

Jeff the Killer sat on the edge of a dirty and unmade motel bed, a cigarette in one hand and the remote to the small, dark television in front of him in the other; his dark mane was rustled and a complete mess, and he was naked, displaying his pale skin and toned body.

He had a bored expression on his face as he wondered how long he'd already been out of the apartments for; all he really remembered from the night he got to the city was finding a prostitute on the street corner – the one that was laying dead on the bed next to him, soaking the pale motel bed sheets with her blood and organs that Jeff had forcefully pulled out as he used her body for his own pleasure – and what he had done to her. Every since Jessie had left him he hadn't felt any kind of respect towards women. He had none left.

Before Jessie, he hated the thought of raping a woman; killing them was just something that he needed to do for his own release and because of what he was, but raping them was so much more disrespectful than just putting them out of their misery. Nowadays, he didn't even flinch at the thought of rape or necrophilia, especially when he was killing them at the same time and ripping their bodies apart – in more ways than one. In fact, it was something that he loved doing. To him, women were something to be used for his pleasure and nothing else. They didn't have emotion and they didn't matter to them.

BEN had told him earlier in the year that he had abandoned his morals and needed to stop going so far with his killing – not because it was wrong, but because it wasn't like him to do – but Jeff hadn't listened to him at all. He didn't see it like that. He was just following the normal pattern of serial killers. He experienced something that made him dislike a certain woman, and that made him hate all women in the world and want to make them pay for what the original woman did to him. He wasn't doing anything that an ordinary human couldn't do.

He put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the worn down, bedside table and got to his feet, stretching his arms out. He had become slightly more in shape since Jessie had left his life. All the running away from police and rape of women and the effort it took to do al of that, caused his muscles had toned up.

"I'd better head out…" He mumbled to himself.

"…_since the massacre, committed by Jessie Walker…"_

Jeff jolted and turned around to face the television, which had a blond news reporter with huge breasts and too much make up reading from a piece of paper, and next to her in a square box, was a picture of the smiling, cheerful Jessie Walker from a year ago, before she had even met Jeff. The picture had been cropped, but Jeff had seen it in her house, hung up on the walls. In it, she was walking through a park with Anthony and Sally, and they were all laughing and joking at something that was unknown to him, and when he asked her, she had forgotten what it was or even, who took the picture.

The killer stared at the TV screen, listening to the information telling him that it had been a year since Slenderman took Jessie to the mental institution.

The memory flashed back into Jeff's mind.

Just before they left the unconscious killer on the porch of the hospital, Jeff kissed her forehead and held her tightly, crying and wishing that she could stay with him, but knowing that she couldn't after she had tried to kill herself. Slender asked him to wrap it up so they could head back home; someone was coming outside and they couldn't be seen, and that was it. His one true love was taken away from him. He knew that she wasn't ready to be a killer, even if she stayed with him and left to go to the apartments; she wouldn't be happy with him, even if she wouldn't be happy with amnesia at the hospital, it was a safe option than letting her live in a place that she didn't belong.

Thinking about her had caused him pain ever since that night.

Her beautiful, caramel-coloured face, the same one that had always brought him a throbbing feeling in his heart, now crushed it and scrunched it up, causing him to want to vomit. Her deep, dark eyes that he could spend hours looking into, he felt as though he couldn't even glance at anymore. Her adorable laugh and giggle that caused a shiver to run down his spine, would only sound like a stretching ringing in his ears now.

The teenage murderer cringed and placed his blood-soaked hand on over his face.

"Jessie…" he gritted his teeth. "Jessie…"

A sudden flash of rage overpowered him and he couldn't control his actions. His hands grabbed the intestines of the prostitute next to him on the bed and began to rip them apart, tearing the flesh and screaming with pure pain and hatred in his voice, the blood flying all over him and his surroundings. The dead body stayed perfectly still as the killer over her ripped her insides even more apart than he already had, her eyes as dead as fishes. He couldn't cause her any more pain, and that was causing him to feel dissatisfied; he wanted to cause pain to others in order to sustain his own and keep himself under control. It was worse than before he met Jessie now. She had made him worse than before she met him and he couldn't escape it.

He wanted to see her and touch her face and her hair again, but he knew that if he did, he would break down and simply become so overly angry that he would most likely kill her.

Tears appeared in his eyes and ran down his pale face, as he screamed out one word and one word only.

"Jessie!"

"Jessie!"

"JESSIE!"

~:~

"I'll see you later!"

Anthony Williams waved his hands towards his school friends, smiling softly and walking the opposite direction to them, towards his house.

A year had passed since the incidents with Jessie and Jeff the Killer, and the Williams family had decided that a move would be the best thing for the family and for Anthony's sanity and education; - which was still the most important thing to Anthony's parents, sometimes appearing to be more important than his own health. The family had moved to Norwich, a small, South-East, English town, with a more rural feel to it than Oxford. The residents were lovely, always smiling and waving at each other – since everyone in the village knew everyone, and were all on good terms with one another – and the place was quiet. A perfect place for Anthony to recover, and recover he had.

The teenager smiled like he had never smiled before, laughing and being with the new friends that he had met a year ago, when he moved to the village; they were all fairly intelligent, and found a kind of peace in studying, just like him; no one else had understood his need to study and how relaxed it made him feel before, not even Jessie or Sally. And considering the fact that the teen had always been asked on study dates by the girls of the school, his popularity was extremely evident. He had friends, he was well-liked by his peers and teachers, his grades were as high as they could possibly be and had ever been and he was the most relaxed he had ever been.

But he never forgot the events of a year ago.

Or the people in the past.

After the incident, he visited Sally's, Lavinne's and Ann-Ann's graves, leaving flowers for each other them, and praying that they rest peacefully; no matter what, he would never visit John's grave, even if he felt that it was disrespectful. Even if he was dead, what he did to Jessie was unforgivable and he refused to go near _his_ place of resting. He visited the girls' graves every day until he moved house, and even now that he lived quite far away, every few months, he would go back to their graves and talk to them for a few hours, just to feel a sense of normality and nostalgia. As much as Anthony was in love with his new life, he still missed his old one.

Although, Sally was never far.

As the glasses wearing teenager wondered down the main street of the small village, he looked up to the sun, wondering whether he should stop by the lake and take a nap next to the ducks; he had done this quite a few times since the weather had been really gorgeous. In the city, he could never just take naps in the parks, with the fear that someone would mug him or even kill him, however that never happened in the village.

Suddenly, he felt a person hold him with the uttermost care from behind. Their hands ran across his chest, gently caressing him in a sweet, invisible embrace. He smirked playfully and turned around to see no one behind him to be able to hold him – or at least, to the untrained eye – or even more accurate, to those without Anthony's eyes.

In the air, in the depths of the slight breeze passing over him, a small, pale, barely visable mist passed through the street behind him; only he could see this mist, for it was so thin and unnoticeable, that it even took Anthony half a year to be able to notice that the mist was even there. Although, now that he had noticed, he couldn't_ not_ notice it. He saw this mist every where he went and it couldn't be unseen by him, even if no one else was aware of its constant presence around Anthony – in his classes, at his house, when he went out with his new friends, any time at all. Wherever Anthony went, the mist went.

This was his own, little secret that no one else could ever know about. The other half of his soul and the other half of his mind, which followed him everywhere, like a small puppy. The other half of him that no one else would ever see or know about.

"Sally…" He whispered as he gave the invisible girl a sweet smile.

He could imagine her standing there, giving him a playful salute in that pure, white dress that she had been permanently wearing since she died and became a ghost that had infiltrated the depths of Anthony's mind. Every night, when the teenager went to sleep and managed to talk to the girl who was allowed to be real in his mind, she would be wearing the feminine outfit, which she would never of worn when she was alive, her being a tomboy and all. Now that she had been dead for a year, he could only picture her in that dress, her never changing, bouncy, dark brown hair dripping down to the middle of her back. He had never pictured her as a real girl until now, and now that had, he knew that she was elegant, adorable and beautiful.

"…_and Jessie Walker has escaped the institution…."_

Anthony flinched and rotated to the side of him, where a television shop stood, its doors open so that passers by could hear the products inside; the teenager stood, eyes wide open and couldn't move. He felt Sally standing next to him and could picture her having the same expression on her face – her large eyes wide and sparkling like the bright moon in the night.

"_The eighteen year old mass murderer killed her psychiatrist in her office by stabbing her with a pen in her office and then, a letter opener and is now on the loose in the UK…."_

Anthony could feel his world come crashing down.

He was reminded once more that good things don't last forever. This was a lesson that he should have learnt a year ago.

Ghost Sally wrapped her unseen hand around the shocked boys' and grasped it as hard as her ghost fingers would allow her. Anthony could feel her fear and her upset at remembering the incidents from a year ago, especially for her, since that when she was killed. He couldn't even imagine what she was feeling right there and then.

All he could do was hold back onto her invisible hand and hope that she wasn't crying, without him being able to see or hear her. That was the one thing that he hated about her being a ghost. He could never tell when he was awake, what she was feeling unless she moved something or smashed something to show that she was angry. She never did anything too obvious like writing something down for him to see because she didn't want to attract attention that would automatically make people think there was a ghost around. At least her smashing things could be explained as wind blowing whatever it was off the surface or it being too close to the edge of whatever it was standing on.

The two teenagers stood there. One alive. One dead. Both wondering why their memories couldn't just die and disappear.

In that moment, Anthony whispered a name that he never thought he would ever have to say again. After the police started to leave him alone, he had moved away from the city into a village where no one cared about things that happened outside of the place and therefore, didn't know who he was, and he had managed to move on with his life, he hoped that he would never have to even think about this person or this name every again.

"Jessie…."


	3. Chapter 2: The Struggle

**Hey guys, XxItaChanxX here for a quick talk.**

**I'm sorry about me not updating the story too often. I know that it's summer break, which means that I should have more time to write and upload, but that isn't how this summer has gone. Personal events have occurred and I haven't been able to find the time to write. I'm sorry. A lot of the problems have been sorted out, so I will have more time to update from now on, but I do apologise for not being able to over the past month or so.**

**I do see writing as an emotional outlet [which is why my stories are so fucked up most of the time] but it's hard to do when you have no time to do it. I hope that you guys bare with me and are patient with these chapters. Thank you.**

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter. I can't wait to write the next one.**

**~ Ciao **

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**The Struggle**

Back at the apartments, in the dead of night, the blond, murderous child was sat on the couch in what was once the reception of the building, fiddling with his thumbs and staring down to the floor. He usually despised being in the lounge at the ground floor of the apartment building alone, since it was large and always silent, with no one else residing within the place. BEN was one for small spaces and being around others; he became creeped out when he was by himself. Being inside the internet for so long caused him to never even wonder what it was like to have friends or be surrounded by others, but after he became a part of the family of monsters, he realsied that he hated to be alone. He loved having other monsters around him who understood his sadistic need to kill humans. He loved having Jeff as a friend because he understood him the most out of anyone in that place.

He sat close to the front door of the apartments, and had been sat there for hours now, waiting for his eye-lidless friend to get back home; other monsters had passed through the room, but none of them cared to ask BEN what he was doing. They didn't seem to want to question it and just got on with their day. The pain of not knowing where he was and not knowing what he was doing was killing BEN. He was so used to helping his best friend when he was in a spot of trouble that not helping felt strange; he was concerned at the fact that he couldn't help him even if he wanted to and he hated the fact that he had been told by the Slenderman that he didn't need to worry about where Jeff was. Of course he was going to worry about where Jeff was. He was his best friend.

Sometimes, BEN thought that Slenderman had forgotten what had happened to Jeff a year ago. He had lost the one person in the world that he could connect to in an emotional, mental, physical and sexual way – which was extremely difficult for killers like them – and not only that, but he lost her because of her own decision – which was far to late for her to have made – that she couldn't be with him forever and decided that her only way out was death. Although, to the Link-lookalike, at this point in time, she might as well have been dead considering Jeff would never see her again and the way that Jeff was acting.

BEN understood Jeff's agony. It would be the same thing as him losing Jeff – as he slowly was – and the thought of that killed him inside; he could understand why Jeff was doing what he was doing, but couldn't understand why he wasn't asking for help. In BEN's opinion, if he had lost Jeff and knew that he couldn't see him again, he would cling to someone that he was close to in the apartments, for example Eyeless Jack or Sally. So, he couldn't comprehend why Jeff was instead, pushing everyone else around him away; he surely didn't want to be alone after everything that happened, so what were his motives?

A creaking noise came from the other side of the lounge that BEN recognized was a door opening. The blond child turned around with a relieved smile on his face, hoping that Jeff had returned. To his disappointment, the individual coming through the door was Eyeless Jack, coming in to check up on BEN.

The small killer sighed. "Oh…it's only you."

"Well, thanks." The eyeless cannibal stated sarcastically. "You're still waiting for Jeff, aren't you?"

"Yeah." BEN mumbled. "I can't just not worry, like Slender said. He's my friend."

Jack sighed exaggeratedly and wondered towards the couch, only to sit down next to BEN and place his large, grey hand on the blonds' hair. "Jeff's a big boy, BEN. He'll come back in his own time."

"What if he doesn't?" BEN retorted with. "What if he decides to run away? What if he never wants to come back?!"

"Slendy said that he was watching him, BEN. He can observe us when we aren't here. If Jeff tries to leave, Slendy'll teleport to where he and drag him back here." Jack sighed once more. "BEN, you need to stop worrying so much. When was the last time you killed someone?"

Silence took over the lounge as BEN dug deep into his memories and attempted to remember when he last murdered another; he took a few moments to try and recall his memories of the past few months. Jack turned up an eyebrow underneath his leaking mask.

"I have no idea." BEN said blankly.

"Are you kidding me?!" Jack exclaimed. "When you can't even remember the last time, that's when you _know _that you need a top up." The human-eating killer got to his feet and reached out his hand to BEN. "Come on. You need to get on the internet and kill someone. It's been too long. You can worry about Jeff later. He'll be back."

The gamer thought about what his friend was saying. He had spent his whole day worrying about his friend who hadn't even possessed the common courtesy to let him know that he was alive after he stormed out; he couldn't believe that he spent the whole day worrying about him when he knew that Slenderman – who was extremely responsible and caring towards Jeff and the other monsters who reside within the apartment buildings – was watching over him. He had no need to worry.

Hesitantly, he reached his hand for Jack's, nearly accepting his offer.

SLAM

The two monsters turned to the front door and saw Jeff walking through it, the door slowly shutting behind him; the killer was covered in blood and what looked like residue from someone's organs on his trouser legs. His knife was in his hoody pocket and was staining the already blood-soaked clothing in an even darker crimson. Instant concern flooded BEN's face as he realised that Jeff must've raped and killed another innocent woman.

"Jeff! Where-!"

Before BEN could even finish his sentence, Jeff flew passed his two fellow monsters and ran towards the stairs, heading for his and BEN's room.

"Hey!" Jack called out to him. "BEN was about to talk to you, you little shit!"

It was already too late. Jeff had disappeared upstairs without even looking at his friends. It appeared as though he hadn't even seen them standing there and was lost in his own thoughts. Eyeless Jack turned to his friend, appearing angry from his sharp, clenched teeth.

"Damn…he's such a fucking prick sometimes." Jack placed his hands on his waist and leaned his head back so that he was facing the ceiling. "I mean, you spend your whole day worrying about his ungrateful ass and he repays you by storming passed you and not even looking at you?! What a fucking dick-head! I can't believe-!"

In that moment, BEN's small hands grabbed Jack's dark blue hoody, causing the raging killer to look down at his companion. BEN's large, dark, leaking eyes stared up at his friend, watery as if he was about to break down and cry. His lower lip was beginning to tremble.

"Stop….Please stop…" BEN mumbled. "He's a good friend….he is…."

"_I just miss the old him…"_

~:~

"So…Jessie actually managed to escape from the hospital, huh?"

Anthony stood in the abyss of his own dream, his arms crossed and his feet planted firmly on the invisible ground. His facial expression was one of sorrow and anger mixed together, but he had no idea how to feel as he stood in front of his dead best friend. Sally leaned against a non-existent wall that no matter how much he tried, Anthony couldn't find or lean on like she did whenever he was in one of his dreams – maybe it was something to do with her actually living in the space or her being a ghost. Her expression was one of surprise, but not a negative surprise. She flicked a strand of her long, chestnut-brown hair behind her shoulders and sighed.

"I didn't think she had it in her to escape from a hospital like that." Sally commented. "She could barely play hide and seek before all of this. How did she manage it?"

Anthony flinched and scowled. "This isn't a joke, Sal."

The ghost girl turned to her aggravated friend, her expression blank. "I know that, Anthony. Relax." Her arms were pressed down on her curvy hips as her creamy face glanced upwards at nothing. "I'm just shocked…"

It had been a long time since Anthony had even thought about Jessie or the events from a year ago; he had worked hard to forget about them so that he could live a normal life and get on with what he wanted to do. Sally was a ghost and didn't have the luxury of living in the normal world and having a normal life; she was constantly reminded simply by the small space that she was forced to reside in what she was and that she was dead. She was allowed to observe Anthony in the real world and follow him around, but that was as far as it went; she couldn't actually be with him or walk around with him, as much as she wanted to. She would always remember the events of a year ago and Jessie and Jeff the Killer, because they were the reason why she was dead and why she was ghost.

The tomboy ghost stared at Anthony with serious eyes for the first time in a long time. "So…what do you plan to do?"

The on-edge teenager jolted. "Nothing. What the hell can _I _do?!"

"You do realise that there's a chance that she'll come and find you." Sally stated coldly.

"No, she won't!" Anthony yelled. "She's lost her memories, remember?! The police told me when they found that she was at the hospital! You should remember! You were there too!"

"Amnesia doesn't always last forever, Anthony." A small, sarcastic chuckle escaped Sally's mouth. "She could remember that you're still alive and then decided to pay you a visit. What if that happens?"

"I want nothing to do with her!" The glasses-wearing teen exclaimed. "She killed people that we care about, Sal! Lavinne and Ann-Ann weren't so lucky as to be brought back as ghosts!"

"Hey! Don't get pissy with me, Anthony!" Her back was off of the wall now and her fists were clenched. "I'm just giving you a possible scenario! She could come and find you!"

"I don't want her too! I HATE HER!"

Sally stopped. Her face became sullen and her whole body became numb. She never thought that she would hear those words be spoken by Anthony in regards to Jessie; he may have been extremely angry at her for everything that she and Jeff had done, and for trying to run away with him and leave us behind, but she never thought that he actually _hated_ her. This was a shock that she wasn't sure that she would get over.

"You know…" She began as Anthony started to develop tears in his eyes. "If I were still alive…I would try and face the problem...head on…"

Sally approached Anthony and gently tugged at his shirt, causing him to glance at her as a tear fell down his cheek.

"I would be trying to use my connections to the police and try to find out where she is. Even if I didn't want to even look at her again, I wouldn't want her to harm anyone else. For all we know, she's remembered everything and wants to find Jeff again and go on another killing spree. Jeff's killing left, right and centre right now, and she could be wanting to join him; this could be a case of us helping to save someone else's life…but failing all of that…I personally want to see her again…she may have had a hand in all of these killings…and my death…but at that last moment, she realsied what she was doing and stopped. She could still be the Jessie that we know and love…"

Sally rested her head on Anthony's wide chest softly and wrapped her arms around him as her porcelain cheeks went slightly pink; Anthony didn't move, but his face became scrunched up and he couldn't stop blushing.

"At least…that's what I think…" Sally whispered.

*RING*

The two teens flinched and realsied that in the real world, Anthony's mobile phone was ringing. One of the advantages about being in the dream world with Sally was that Anthony could always hear loud noises coming from wherever he was sleeping at the time; they both just assumed that it was one of his new friends since they were the only ones who actually called him anymore, except for when his parents needed to know where he was.

Sally realsied that she was holding him and became completely red – almost as red as Anthony was throughout the entire hug. She backed away from her friend and faced the invisible floor, trying to hide her crimson face by letting her shining locks and fringe cover it; luckily for her, Anthony was too busy being flustered himself to notice her nervous behaviour and blushing face.

"I-I think that I should wake up and g-get that!" Anthony stumbled.

"Y-Yeah…"

Anthony awoke on his bed, his phone ringing next to him on his bedside table. He glanced out the window and it wasn't too dark outside; he had gone to sleep the instant that he got home since he wanted to talk to Sally immediately after he found out that Jessie had escaped from the hospital. When he found out, he could feel her holding his hand by the cold feeling of her ghost touch and knew that this was a matter that he needed to discuss with her immediately. Putting himself to sleep wasn't difficult. All he needed to do was rest his head and close his eyes, and he would be asleep instantly; when he was relaxed enough Sally could somehow drag his mind into his own dream with ease so that they could speak for as long as possible. This wasn't the most normal of ways to live, but not many people got to speak to those that they have lost. Anthony just saw this whole situation as him being the luckiest guy in the world.

The drowsy teenager picked up his phone and answered it hesitantly, his heart beating a million miles a minute.

He hadn't spoken to Charlotte since the day of Sally's, Lavinne's and Ann-Ann's funeral. She wished him the best of luck in the new village that he was moving to and hugged him for the last time on that day; even though she was just a policewoman on the Jeff the Killer replica murders case, she clearly cared about Sally and Anthony and was very upset when she found out about Sally's death. She had been the one person who hadn't been involved in the whole incident with Jessie that didn't know what was happening that treated Anthony like a human being rather than someone to feel sorry for, and he loved that about her.

He was slightly glad to be hearing for her. He missed her happy-go-lucky and caring attitude towards Sally and him.

He hesitantly answered the call while keeping laid down on his bed.

"Hello." He said briskly. He didn't mean to sound cold, but since he had heard Jessie's name, all of his joyful attitude had disappeared and he was ready to be mean and horrid to everyone he knew – Jessie now had that effect on him. Luckily for him, the kind and sensitive Charlotte didn't even notice.

"_Hey! Anthony! Long time no see!" _She sounded like a mixture of being happy to hear from him and sad due to the circumstances. It was an odd mixture of emotions for one person to put into their voice.

"Hey Charlotte."

Anthony had no idea why, but he could sense that this discussion with Charlotte would change a lot of things in his current life. Like the saying goes, the past always comes back to bite you.


	4. Chapter 3: Survival

**Well, I tried to update as soon as I could and here it is.**

**I'm back of school as of yesterday, so I hope that now that I have a solid routine of the day, that I can get more time to sometimes, sit back, relax and write. This is what keeps me calm and keeps me from killing someone myself (^_^)**

**These past few months have been really shit for me and getting back into writing is helping with my stress. It isn't school or anything that's stressing me out, but personal affairs. Hopefully, I can move on and get over all of it soon, but until then, I'll relieve my stress and keep writing as much as I can...and the same goes for my other story, Creepypasta's Nightmare.**

**I'll let you guys read and I'll see you hopefully soon.**

**~Ciao**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Survival**

Jessie Walker wondered around the bright and vibrant streets of London in a radiant afternoon, as she glanced around for a place to rest her head for the night; she hadn't slept for the whole of the night before so that she could escape from the hospital and ensure that no one was following her as she ran away – and she was exhausted. She was well aware that her face was planted all over the news, so begging someone to stay at his or her place wasn't an option; killing someone for their place wasn't her favourite option either and she was desperate not to have to come to that, however she didn't know what other choice she had. It may come to that soon.

Luckily for her, she had found a homeless shelter where they only donated clothes, meaning that she could change out of her hospital gown and into something more normal and therefore, she could blend in with everyone else – but that didn't solve her problem of finding a place to stay for the night. She had on a black hoody and a flowing, black skirt, which showed off her soft, smooth, chocolate coloured legs and a run down pair of sneakers – at least she could run from the police in them if she needed to. Plus, the hoody was a nice place to hide her knife so that no one noticed she had it. The last thing she needed was someone reporting her for having one out in the open; she couldn't go back to the hospital. While having the nightgown on, she resorted to sticking the knife into the sides of her underwear, but she found that so uncomfortable and she had to be careful when she moved, so it was too inconvenient. Her long, dark hair also flowed in the small breeze that few past her; she wanted to cut her hair before she escaped from the hospital, but she didn't have the time. It could become a liability soon if someone – meaning the police – grabbed it and pulled her to them, or it got caught in something. She had no idea why she let grow in the first place.

She gently tugged at her raven coloured hair and whispered to herself. "How did I let it get this long…?"

Escaping from the hospital wasn't too difficult. Once she killed her Dr. Fredrick, Jessie took her car keys and made a clumsy, but sneaky escape that she had been planning for weeks. She climbed out of the doctor's window carefully and ran towards her car in the parking lot; Jessie had no idea how to drive, but she made a go of it and luckily, she didn't crash into anything or run anyone over – the last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. Attached to the therapist's car keys was her I.D., which was useful when it came to getting through the front gate of the institution, where you need to scan your I.D. to get into or out of unless you were a visitor – Jessie couldn't exactly pass for a visitor when she was leaving way passed visiting hours. She escaped with no problems.

She heard on the radio in the car that people knew that Dr. Fredrick had died and she ditched the car as soon as she reached the outskirts of London. When the police did eventually find her car, they would know that Jessie took it and would definitely looking for her to convict her for stolen possessions and murder – again – or they would lock her in he hospital again. Jessie didn't want either.

The murderous teenager may not have seemed it, but she had a goal and a reason beyond hating it at the hospital to escape from there. She had someone that she needed to find and answers to many questions that she's had for the past year. The only problem she had was that she had no idea where the man she wanted to find was or what he looked like or his name. The only thing that she knew about him was that he existed and she was 100% positively sure about that. She knew that he had to be somewhere.

Her plan was to travel back to Oxford and hopefully find him there. She knew that it was a long shot being that it had been a whole year and she knew that Anthony Williams had moved houses already, so there was a chance that he wouldn't be there either, but it was a good place to start. She would have to hide while being there – she couldn't let anyone see her and report her to the local authorities. She was going to the place that everyone would expect her to go to – back to the scene of her crimes – but she needed to go there and find him somehow.

He had to be there. Somewhere.

All of a sudden a woman with massive breast that Jessie couldn't miss bumped into the lost teenager while holding hands with who appeared to be her boyfriend – or to Jessie, it looked like her 'fuck-buddy'. Jessie apologised even though the woman was the one who bumped into her to try and be polite and even tried to give a fake smile in order to not draw attention to herself and cause a scene like she wanted to, but the blond big-busted woman just scowled at the killer teen and walked on hand in hand with her man.

This gave Jessie flashes of images of pushing the blond to the ground and gutting her, pulling her insides out of her and covering herself in the rude woman's blood, laughing and being in pure ecstasy while doing so.

The images of death and blood and guts caused Jessie's heart rate to begin to increase and her face to become flustered; she leaned against the brick wall next to her and tried to catch her breathe while holding her heart, wishing that it would calm down. People passing by where looking at her strangely, but no one recognized her, to her surprise; this gave her a sense of relief, but her heart rate wouldn't go down.

For a while now, this need to kill has grown even stronger within Jessie, not subsiding no matter how much she didn't want it to happen or she begged to God to make it stop; she didn't want to hurt anyone and she _really_ didn't want to _like _hurting anyone. She wanted to prove to everyone around her that she wasn't a cold-blooded killer like they were making her out to be – although she did realise that killing her therapist and escaping from the hospital wasn't the best way to do that. It was becoming more obvious that the media hadn't been lying when that said that Jessie Walker was a killer; Jessie hadn't been able to remember killing anyone, but she could remember the feeling of _needing_ to kill.

The feeling had appeared within her at the hospital many times. She would be simply reading the terrible books that were donated to the hospital in her room or thinking about how crappy her next meal would be and suddenly, images of death and murder would enter her head. At first, she was scared and disgusted with them and would try to lock them out of her mind through any means she could come up with – whether that be banging her head against the walls or trying desperately hard to think about something else – but over time she began to accept the thoughts and then ended up liking them and actually looking forward to them. They were the only release from her mundane life of captivity that she would ever get. She would spend hours thinking about killing other patients in the hospital or one of the nurses that came into her room to give her a check up or food, and at one point, she was ready to go through with killing someone who entered her room – she even asked to go into Dr, Fredrick's office a few times so that she could steal a pen so that she could stab one of the nurses, just like she had the doctor – but she ended up thinking that it wasn't worth it or she would chicken out.

Although, more than her need to kill, she couldn't stop thinking about the boy who she had forgotten. She had no distinct memories of him, but she could recall things that he had said or conversations that they'd had. Most of all, she remembered the amazing feeling that she'd gotten when around him and knew that he was the one that she needed to be with more than anything else; she had so many questions for him, but he never went to see her at the hospital and she had never heard the gossiping nurses talk about him. They only spoke about the people she'd killed and that Jeff the Killer guy. She knew that she couldn't mean _nothing_ to him considering how she remembers how strongly she felt about him, so she wondered what happened to him and why she hadn't seen him yet.

She knew that she didn't kill him. The only men she killed were her father, this guy in her school called John, who she eventually, after some time, remembered slightly as a mean guy and it couldn't be him that she felt like this for, and his friends, but she heard the nurses saying that she didn't know them. She couldn't have killed him, meaning that unless he died while she was in the hospital, he was somewhere out there in the world. Even if he did die while she was in the hospital, at least if she found that out then she would know for certain that he was unattainable. If that were the case, she wouldn't have a reason to go on except to kill and in her eyes, that wasn't worth being on the run for her whole life.

She would just have to end it all.

"Fuck…" She mumbled to herself. "I need to calm down…otherwise I'll want to kill someone…"

"Hey."

The distressed escapee turned to her side, her heart skipping a beat at the fact that someone had approached her and tried to speak with her; they could have been the police or a civilian who knew who she was and wanted to turn her into the authorities. She had only escaped her terrible life the night before. Things couldn't end this quickly and she didn't want to have to kill someone just to keep them quiet. That would be a waste of her time.

Her large, dark eyes fell upon a young man in his early twenties, who appeared to have a large smile on his face; he had slight morning stubble, large, bright eyes, messy, blond hair that was hidden beneath a black beanie and clothes that seemed very retro. Jessie remembered from her days outside of the hospital that guys like this were called 'hipsters'. She couldn't remember why, but she recalled not particularly liking them very much.

"You okay?" His smile stayed the same – large and wide. It was unsettling.

Jessie breathed deeply to calm herself down and stood up straight. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning in uncomfortably close to Jessie's face. "…because if you're not, there's somewhere I can take you to help you…and to help _relieve _you of your pain."

Jessieknew what this guy was asking immediately. She may have been trapped in a hospital for a year and was away from other ordinary humans with ordinary urges and needs, but she remembered what someone asking for a sexual favour sounded like and what look people had on their faces when they asked for them; she hadn't been on the other end of a request as far as she could remember, but she remembered seeing that kind of thing on television and this man in front of her looked like he wanted to get in her pants.

For a split second, Jessie was ready to just walk away from this guy and not look back, but then she realsied something. Her need to kill was growing stronger and stronger. She could barely control her breathing or manage her heart rate; she needed to either run into a freezing-cold lake to cool off – she knew that there were no clean lakes in or near London and it wasn't cold outside either since it was spring – or kill someone to relieve the pain and urge.

This guy seemed like a perfect candidate. He would ask to take advantage of a clearly unwell, young, defenseless teenage girl who might be completely oblivious to the dangers of men – that made him a bad person, meaning that Jessie could easily justify this killing.

A small smile appeared on her face as she faked gratitude. "Thank you…where is it? I'm in a lot of pain…"

"Just come with me." He reached his large hand out to her. Without a moment's hesitation – and a hint of desperation – Jessie took it.

She wanted to kill this guy as fast as she could.

~:~

The two young adults walked hand in hand for a couple of blocks, passing unsuspecting citizens who lacked the knowledge that Jessie was planning on killing this random stranger, before reaching an abandoned apartment building that seemed to not have been inhabited for quite a few years; the outside of the place was run down, displaying broken windows, a busted door, broken antennas hanging off the side of the building and paint from the outside of the building that had been chipped and scratched off – in addition to the graffiti spray-painted all over the side of the walls saying lines that made little sense to Jessie about saving the gangs of the city and that crime is true freedom – she could only agree that killing was true freedom for her, but other than that, the writing made no sense to her. The lawn of the building hadn't been mowed in a long time – years by the look of it – leaving a long safari-like grass patch that Jessie was tempted to run through and pretend to be chased by a lion; this was a place that Jessie could've have imagined to be a better place to kill someone.

Jessie's first thought was how cut off this building was from the main roads of London and how no one would go near it even if they were dared to; it was like the main killing spot of a horror movie. Jessie remembered horror movies. She remembered that teenagers would go to places like this one because of a dare and would assume that nothing would happen to them – but what do they know, a murderer is hiding there, waiting for them. It was a place where people would suspect drug users or rapists to be hanging around, so no one would hear the man with her scream or come and help him.

Perfect.

A fake cough escaped her mouth as she still pretended to be sick for the stranger holding her hand.

"Is this the place?" She asked innocently.

"Uh-huh." He responded lightly. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you here…"

Jessie gently held onto his arm, causing him to glance down at her, his wide smile still stitched on his face; when he saw her face, he couldn't help but blush slightly and widen his blue eyes. Her smile was a false one, but it was still sweet and looked like the genuine smile of an innocent young girl who was showing gratitude.

"Thank you…I really appreciate it…"

The stranger became slightly flustered and his smile became more relaxed. "I…It's alright."

Manipulation was something that Jessie wasn't sure whether she would be good at or not – since she couldn't manipulate anyone in the hospital or even attempt to try out because her contact with other patients was restricted – but it seemed that she had an adorable face that she could use to get what she wanted. She would keep that in mind when she needed something from a man. Also, she didn't know why, but this guy clearly found her attractive since he asked her for a sexual favour in the first place, so maybe she could use her body as well as her face; knowing all of this would make it so much easier to kill others for her when she needed to.

The two wondered inside the broken front door and walked through the dirty, un-kept, empty hallways, still hand in hand. It was only when they reached a desolate room at the back of the building with nothing in it that they were released from each other's grip. Jessie looked around the room, still breathing slightly heavily so as to keep her defenseless looking appearance up; she took a few steps forward and inspected the room, ready to note anything extraordinary down in her mind if need be.

"So…do you have medicine here…?" She asked.

"Well…a kind of medicine…" The hipster responded with in a sinister voice.

A sly smile appeared on Jessie's face as she heard the man slowly shut the door to the room. She reached into her pocket, ready to garb her knife, ready to attack the guy behind her; she had figured out her plan already. She would let him approach her and try to kiss her – maybe even pin her down – then she would stab him in the stomach and the rest would flow naturally to her. Her mouth began to leak saliva from the desperate need to slide her knife into the man's gut and slice through to the other side of his stomach in order to watch his intestines fall out of him and cover herself in his blood. Her heart rate increased and she couldn't stop breathing heavily – genuinely this time.

This was going to be a good kill.

"So, do you li-?"

GRAB

"Mnh!"

Suddenly, a couple of large hands grabbed Jessie by the arm and covered her mouth, making her unable to speak or reach for her knife, which stayed steadily in her pocket; the large person with large features rotated Jessie against her will so that she was facing the man who had just dragged her to the apartment building in the first place. His smile was back to being more sinister and he was now surrounded by two other guys who looked similar to him in style, except their eyes were red and they seemed pale and thin.

"So…I hope you enjoy your treatment, little one."

Jessie's eyes widened. Her heart felt like it had been crushed by someone like a scrap of paper and her words were trapped in her throat, making her not even be able to _try_ and speak beneath this mans gigantic hand; she couldn't even contemplate how she felt at that moment. Sweat began to drop from her brow and she felt claustrophobic, almost as if she couldn't breathe and not just from her covered mouth, but her nose as well.

If she had to guess, she would call this feeling fear.

The man holding her threw her to the floor, which caused her to land with a large thump; she felt a slight pain in her side from where she landed and she had to grit her teeth to be able to bare the throbbing in her arm from its unwanted contact with the ground.

The hipster got on top of her and two of his apparent friends held her arms down as she squirmed and tried to bare the pain – for men who looked as though they hadn't eaten in months, these two had a lot of strength to be able to hold a full-grown teenage girl down. As he loomed over her, Jessie tried to speak, but still couldn't say a word; her chest began to hurt and so did her head. Her mind was throbbing and causing tears to form in her eyes from the discomfort; her trembling wouldn't stop. She was actually displaying fear for the first time that she could remember. She had feared nothing at the hospital except for her thoughts of death, but they never made her react like this.

She had a strange feeling that she had seen or even experienced a scene like this before.

"Well…" The stranger began. "Let's begin."

His hand went at the bottom of her hoody, as he pulled it up, exposing her bare breasts; she hadn't gotten time to grab a bra from the hospital – since the patients didn't wear them usually because of the underwire being too dangerous for them to have in their possession – and the homeless shelter where she got her clothes from didn't have any in her size, so she didn't bother trying to find one. It didn't seem too important to her at the time. The men around her whistled and grinned at each other clearly impressed.

The one on top of her laughed and said "Wow, that's a pair. How old are you anyway?"

Suddenly, flashing images of a scene like this appeared in Jessie's mind. She was under a boy around her age, but she couldn't make out who it was, with two boys holding her down just like this; the only difference was that this boy was inside her, rocking back and forth and she was in immense pain. The images were accompanied by the sounds of her screaming in pain and the boys all laughing, just like the men were now.

The tears fell to the side of her face onto the filthy, dusty floor and she stared up at the men with a terrified look.

"P…Ple…Please…D-."

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Everyone, including Jessie, rotated and gazed upon a massive Jack-in-the-box that had appeared out of nowhere; it stood backed up against the wall with wallpaper rolling off of it and stood tall. The box was black and white and was emitting the acoustic version of 'Pop the Wesel', giving everyone except for Jessie a chill up their spines.

The lid of the box gradually opened, creating a mist as it did. The men had lost all interest in Jessie and she had noticed immediately; the box in front of her had been a shock to see, but the most important thing for Jessie at the moment was getting away from the boys in front of her. Her knife was now in reach as the men holding her arms had released their grip of her – a dangerous mistake to make. Her arm slowly reached for her hoody pocket so as not to alarm anyone as she stared at the man on top of her, just to make sure that he didn't try to stop her and that his eyes stayed on the box.

"JESSIE! DON'T MAKE ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENT!" yelled out the deep, echoing voice from the box. "AND DON'T BEG FOR MERCY! IT'S NOT LIKE YOU!"

Jessie flinched and stared at the box once more. Now she had taken a full-on interest in the box and the fact that whatever was speaking from within it, knew her name.

By this point, the men had began to run out of the building, some of them crying, some of them cursing about not being able to screw Jessie; the confused teenager sat up, eyes still on the box. She was frustrated that her need to kill wouldn't be satisfied, but she was thankful to this mystery box for saving her. She had no idea what those images in her head were, but they began to worry the murderer. Although, she would have to save thinking about them for another day.

"Jessie…."

All of a sudden, a clown began to levitate out of the box, his colour scheme being black and white, just like the box. His hair was black and a complete mess, his nose was a black and white danger hazard because of how sharp and long it was, his teethe were as pointed as a shark, his fingers were dark and practically claws and he didn't seem to be able to stop laughing while leaving his home in the box.

Jessie was astonished at this character and wondered who he was.

"Don't worry…" He mumbled. He bent over and curtsied for her, placing his arms behind his back and keeping his head down.

"Laughing Jack's here for you…"


	5. Chapter 4: Old Life New Life

**Chapter Four**

**Old Life. New Life.**

Anthony had no idea that Charlotte would travel all the way to the village that he lived in simply to speak to him about what had happened. The teen had stressed to her that he didn't mind simply speaking with her on the phone- not because he didn't want to meet with her, but because he didn't now how much reminders of Jessie's existence and what she had done to his life that he could take – and that he would find it easier to simply speak where he couldn't see her and be reminded of his past, but she wouldn't tale that as an answer and insisted on travelling that long distance to see him. He couldn't exactly say no when she was going to such lengths to lay her eyes upon him; this must've been important to her.

He walked slowly down the gravel pathway through the park, the café that they agreed to meet in, clearly in his sight. He had been in there many times with his new school friends before class and he really liked the coffee there – especially since it was the only café in the village and the one place that he could grab some good hot drinks before school if he needed to pull an all-nighter to study, which happened quite often.

The walk there gave him some time to think about whether he was going to get involved with this incident with Jessie or not. The previous night, Sally had seemed adamant about him getting involved and simply ignoring what Jessie had done to him and his friends, but he didn't think that he could do that. The amount of pain and suffering that he went through and the amount that he had to recover was too much for him to simply forgive her for and move on. She was the one responsible for Sally's death, so he had no idea why she had simply said that Jessie could change and actually believed in her. There was no way that he could help her now. He was too damaged _because _of her to show her any kind of forgiveness and get her back where she belonged. In the hospital, with time to recover.

That was his decision and he was desperate to keep to it.

As he approached the tiny café, he glanced through the window at the front of the building to search for his company; it didn't take long for him to notice her sat, already with a cup of tea on her small table. Antony's bright eyes widened as he observed this policewoman sat in the same place where he would usually sit with his friends when he went to sit in this establishment; she had changed quite dramatically since the last time he saw her.

She had somehow started to look younger than she was. Her sparkling, blond hair had been cut down to her shoulders – which gave a more appropriate image to the officer of the law – she wasn't wearing make-up like Anthony remembered her wearing when they first met, causing her natural beauty to shine through and she was wearing a white collared-shirt and black, pencil skirt, making her appear very professional.

Back when Jessie and Jeff had been killing the people around him, Anthony hadn't really noticed before, but Charlotte was extremely charming and adorable at the same time. He had been so stricken with grief at the death of his friends that he didn't even notice how lovely she really looked; his only interest at the time was Jessie, but since she was out of the picture – well, not anymore – he could observe other women and not feel guilty about it – not that he really had a chance with Jessie to begin with, meaning that he didn't have a reason to feel so guilty about looking at other woman.

Charlotte Maypoles had always seemed so kind, caring and lovable, but never anything like the stereotypical policewoman; Anthony and Sally seemed more impressed by her support than anything else when they found out that Lavinne and Ann-Ann had died – not knowing that their best friend had been the one to make it happen in the first place.

Suddenly, Anthony felt a presence that he was sure was Sally. She gently brushed his hand, signalling that she was excited to see Charlotte as well as Anthony suddenly was from seeing her current beauty. Anthony had learnt Sally's ghostly movements and what they meant over the past year and now, she was so easy to read when he was awake and couldn't actually see her. He nodded in agreement to the excitement and smiled as he walked into the café.

Charlotte immediately got to her feet and grinned with a tear in her eye at Anthony. The second that he approached the table, she wrapped her arms around him without saying a word and pulled him in close; the other customers in the café were all looking at these two, however Anthony didn't care about that. He was more worried about the fact that the policewoman's chest was pressed up against his; a year ago, he never noticed how bouncy her chest looked – he was too gentlemanly to objectify women like that – but now he couldn't help but love the feeling of having a girl's chest against his. He was an inexperienced guy after all.

"C-Charlotte!" He called out as he blushed uncontrollably. "H-Hello!"

She pulled away, a tear running down her face as she continued to grin, displaying her pure, white teeth.

"It's really good to see you, Anthony." Her voice was sweet and comforting, like a mothers.

After the chest-to-chest contact was over and the glasses-wearing teenager was able to stop blushing, he managed to pull off a smile and return the gesture.

"Yeah…it's good to see you too, Charlotte."

~:~

"Whoa! You're thinking of going to Cambridge University?"

Charlotte leaned forward over the table with an impressed expression on her porcelain face, nearly knocking over her now empty teacup; Anthony chuckled slightly at how childish she still was acting and asked her politely to sit back down. She did as he told, blushing slightly at her whimsical behaviour, realising that the villagers in the café were staring at her once again. Anthony hadn't gotten to know Charlotte in great depth and didn't realise that she was childish like this; as mature as he had become, he didn't mind her behaviour. He found it slightly cute – just like how he found Jessie cute a year ago instead of now thinking of her as a monster.

"That's a big deal." She continued in a more whispered tone. "I always knew that you were a smart one. You have the look."

"I'm not sure what that means, but thank you." Anthony had ordered a black coffee and had only taken one sip so far; Charlotte had asked him so many questions about himself that he didn't even know when he would be able to drink his bitter, caffeine drink in peace. "My parents wanted me to go to Oxford University, but I don't really want to go back there…"

The policewoman's face loosened and she didn't know how to respond. She simply looked down into her teacup with melancholy eyes and nodded with a sense of understanding; her words were lost in her throat and she didn't know what to say. She could tell that this was the most tactful attitude to take, since it was evident that Anthony was sick and tried of people telling him that they were sorry for what had happened to him back in Oxford or even overhearing others discussing the incident. He was glad that he was finally speaking to someone who understood his need for normality and a more relaxed attitude towards his previous tragedies.

He tried to change the subject. He felt a slight smidge of guilt for causing Charlotte to glance down like that; she was so much cuter when she smiled, so he didn't want to cause a sad expression to be on her face if he could help it. "What about you? How are you doing? How's Phillip?"

Her face started to light up again. Anthony gave a slight smile of relief; it was a good thing that she wore her heart on her sleeve. "Oh, Phillip's retired now. He happily left the job just a few weeks ago. It was sad to see him go. He's heading off to Italy with his wife."

"Oh, how lucky." The teen was attempting to have a normal, catch-up conversation and was actually managing to handle it without digressing or wondering off; the only really detailed conversations he had anymore were with Sally while he slept, since his new friends in the village didn't speak about anything other than school and gaming and, in addition to this, none of them knew about his past and he didn't _want _them to know. The knowledge that the only person he really spoke to was a ghost of his former best friend caused him to question his own sanity. "What about you? How are you doing? How's life?"

Charlotte became slightly pink, giggled and grinned, placing her hand on the back of her head in a comical, but flustered fashion. "Well…actually, I'm engaged."

Anthony's eyes widened slightly. In that instant, he realised just how little he knew about this woman that he had agreed to meet up with; he didn't even know that she had a boyfriend. That wasn't too shocking considering the only ties that they had to each other were the death of Anthony's friends and the fact that they both now knew Jessie Walker – the well-known killer and psychopath. He also felt extremely bad about enjoying the feeling of Charlotte's chest when he arrived at the café before; that chest belonged to another guy and he had blushed and indirectly touched it; his reputation as a gentleman was now tainted.

"Wow…really?" he asked, genuinely interested.

Charlotte giggled again. "Yeah. His name is Brandon. We met a few years ago and just…fell in love."

The pretty blond glanced down to her hand, gazing at her engagement ring with a mixture of pride and adoration; the diamond wasn't too large, but it still must've required a huge amount of money. This Brandon must've had a well-paying job and really wanted to treat Charlotte well by giving her a ring that size.

"He proposed two months ago…and I'm really happy." Suddenly, Charlotte snapped up and stared at Anthony for a moment and then blushed more dramatically. "Oh, I'm sorry! I just started going on about myself! That's not why I asked you to meet me!"

Anthony tilted his head and knew that the question which would change the course of their relaxed conversation had to be asked, despite his joy as to how the meeting was going so far. "Out of curiosity…why _did _you ask me to meet with you? You appeared almost desperate to meet with me."

The young woman took a deep breath and exhaled, a more serious expression on her face now; Anthony knew that she didn't want to meet with him simply to catch up. She wouldn't have travelled all the way to him if it wasn't anything important; this stern expression caused Charlotte to appear to look more like a real policewoman – it was nice for Anthony to see her like this. It allowed him to know that she didn't simply take on her job with the usual childish attitude that she displayed so often; she was caring the previous year, but she never showed that she could be anything other than a delicate woman.

"The reason why I asked you to meet with me…" She began. "…is because I've been reading into Jessie's files."

Anthony's heart skipped a beat. He knew that it would be about Jessie; there would be no other reason why Charlotte would go to see Anthony.

"I decided to look into her case and hospital files since I found out that she escaped from the institute. I wanted to think about reasons why she would escape, other than just not wanting to be there; I may not have known her very well, but I can assume that she wouldn't simply kill her psychiatrist because she wanted to leave the hospital." Charlotte placed both of her hands on the table and interlocked them around her cup of tea. "It seems as though despite the fact that she had forgotten everything that she had done, which I'm sure you're aware of, she kept telling her psychiatrists about a boy that she couldn't remember. A boy who she loved."

Anthony instantly knew that she was talking about Jeff. Jeff was the last person to see Jessie before she died – which Anthony had just always assumed since it would make perfect sense – so her remembering him and only him would be perfectly logical; one _would_ remember the last thing that occurred before their memories were erased, if anything. Although, that didn't mean that it didn't get on Anthony's nerves that Jessie had remembered the killer and not her friends or family – the ones who loved and cared for her before she became a killer.

Anthony frowned, not knowing how to react to this information; he may have hated Jessie by this point in time, but that didn't mean that her not even being able to recall him or Sally when she could still remember Jeff the Killer didn't cause him aggravation and distress. The urge to punch the table had to be sustained while in front of Charlotte and the villagers around them – they had been staring at the two young adults enough for one day and he would have to live with them judging him for the rest of his life, or at least while he still lived there, if he caused a scene now. He could punch the invisible walls when in his dream with Sally; it wouldn't get all of his anger out, but it would help.

"I was wondering if you had any idea who that boy could be." Charlotte couldn't quite see the frustration in Anthony's eyes, but she could tell that he had reacted to hearing Jessie's name; however, she would have to continue with her questions regardless. This was the whole reason she came here. "Was there anyone who Jessie had a crush on that you knew of? You were her closest friend, even if she might be reluctant to tell another boy who she liked at the time – you know how girls are. If you know anything, it would be very useful for the authorities so that we could get a lead as to where she is."

A sigh escaped Anthony's mouth. "You think that she could have run to the guy she loved since she could recall him? Did she even remember who he was or his name?"

"No. She only remembered memories of him and how she felt about him." The blond relaxed her shoulders slightly, feeling relieved that Anthony was actually complying. "She doesn't remember what he looked like or his name. She couldn't even remember his voice."

That's what Anthony thought.

It was so clear as to who Charlotte was referring to and both he and Sally knew it. His ghost friend had yet to actually try and make contact with Anthony in any way during this conversation; this meant that she simply wanted to watch and thought that she knew what Anthony was going to say or do. The teen knew that she wanted for him to keep quiet about what he knew; he and Sally had been the only two to know what had happened between Jeff the Killer and Jessie Walker and they were planning on keeping it that way. All Anthony wanted to do was move on and leave all of that behind with his fragmented school mate. He wasn't planning to do anything different.

Charlotte's eyes drifted to the floor as she gave a grim smile. "You know…some people think that Jessie was in love with Jeff the Killer."

Anthony jolted.

Charlotte noticed this reaction and continued. "They say that she was so obsessed with him and his way of killings that she must have been infatuated with him. It would make sense, right?"

Regrettably, Anthony had no idea how to react to this implication; the facial expression that Charlotte was making wasn't one of the happy-go-lucky, girly, giddy woman he had been speaking to a moment ago. There was something menacing about her smile – something that said that she knew more than she let on. Anthony was questioning in his head whether the reason she brought the topic up was because she actually knew the answers to her own questions, but someone as kind and caring as Charlotte, who always displayed exactly as she was feeling, couldn't possibly be implying what he thought she must have been implying.

"I guess…it would make sense." This was all that Anthony could come out with. The woman opposite him chuckled.

"Well, some people believe that when Jeff the Killer stopped killing in America – mainly Florida – that he had come to England because of all of the unexplained murders happening here. They dismissed that theory when Jessie was caught as a Jeff-copycat, but it still makes sense." Charlotte pointed at Anthony and leaned over the café table. "Jessie seemed to have had a reason for killing Jonathan – the boy in your old school – and his group of friends, since out of the people she knew who died, they had to most violent deaths; I think that's when she started killing. I think that Jeff the Killer came to Oxford started killing and then corrupted Jessie. She liked researching killers, right? She _must've _come across Jeff in her research. She could have been interested in him and eventually fell in love with him. That would make the most sense."

Anthony's heart-rate was increasing dramatically. He couldn't understand how someone as innocent-looking as Charlotte – even if she was a policewoman – could figure out the whole turn of events in such a short amount of time by simply looking at Jessie's files. He started to panic on the inside.

"H-How can you know that? How can you know that Jeff was in England or that he met Jessie? He may not have."

Charlotte leaned back in her chair. "Judging by your reaction, I'm guessing that I'm right."

The only thing that the two of them could now hear in the café was the noise of others eating, drinking and mumbling, although Anthony was sure that he couldn't even hear all of that. He felt Sally's ghostly hand hold onto his arm, meaning that she didn't know what to do either; the two living and deceased teens were stuck.

Charlotte continued. "I didn't figure it out. It wasn't me…but the instantly that I did, I realised on my own that the only person alive who could tell me whether that theory was correct of not was the last survivor of Jessie's murder-spree. Which is you, Anthony…so tell me, am I right?"

All that he could do was bow his head and exhaled the most harming exhale of his life; he could barely breathe knowing that someone knew his secrete, especially a policewoman. She could arrest him for holding information from the police force and lying to them when the questioned him the previous year. The fear was over-whelming him.

"W…Who else…knows?" He stuttered, holding back the urge to run away from the café and keep going until he reached the furthest parts of the country, far away from Charlotte, the village and the conversation.

"Just me…and a Jeff the Killer fanatic that I happen to know. You don't need to worry. We're not planning on telling anyone. I didn't come here to arrest you."

Anthony raised his head and gave her a puzzled face. "Wait…then why did you bring me here?"

Charlotte took a deep breath. "I came here to ask you to help me find the two of them."

Once again, Anthony's heart stopped.

"Help me find Jessie Walker and Jeff the Killer."


	6. Chapter 5: Lost and Found

**Hello people of the web :)**

**I'm back with a new chapter and some small news as well. It's about my story writing.**

**I know that I have two stories going on at the moment, but I am planning a couple of new ones. I won't give away what they're about and I won't be uploading any of them until I get to a certain part in this story and 'CreepyPasta's Nightmare' either, just so that I feel confident enough to finish the two of them _and _the new stories - I'm not the most well-known person when it comes to finishing my stories. I'm just in the planning mode for both of them now and I don't want to get into anything new just yet - especially with my school coursework and exams.  
**

**Also, I know that this is unrelated, but THE WALKING DEAD STARTS AGAIN SOON!**

**My sexy Daryl shall be on my T.V. screen once again...*drools***

**Anyway, that's my news :)**

**I'll leave you guys to read and I'm going to go and do my homework like a good little girl ;) **

**~Ciao**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**Lost and Found**

"Laughing...Jack?" Jessie whispered inquisitively as she stood in shock as the clown demon before her got to put his back straight and grinned at her from afar.

His teeth were as sharp and dangerous as a shark's and his eyes were a bright white, with his pupils taking up practically no space at all in his eye socket. Staring into them seemed to be perilous to the young, female killer for some unexplained reason in her mind, so she avoided it.

"Yes, my young dear?" He responded to her without her even displaying the want or need for him to; she jolted when he spoke. He joyful and yet sinister voice sent chills up Jessie's spin.

Despite the fact that she had no idea what Laughing Jack could have possibly been - other than a sick figment of her own over-active imagination educed by her still still reacting to some of the drugs that they gave her at the hospital a few days before she left - and that he was creepy beyond belief to her, she wasn't too afraid of him. The way that the boys who attacked her ran away from him in fear wasn't understood by Jessie; he wasn't anything too extraordinary to her at all. Sure, she understood that a clown appearing out of nowhere and laughing like a maniac was one way to scare people off, but Jessie herself wasn't too effected by it and she had no idea why.

She couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen something like this scene before; she felt as though she had seen the impossible before - or a creature like this Laughing Jack character before - but she couldn't put her finger on when. Having amnesia was so troublesome in situations such as this. She also couldn't shake the feeling that she had heard the name 'Laughing Jack' before; it could have been in a passing conversation, but she had heard his name before.

She suddenly wondered if the reason that this creature knew her name and she thought that she had heard _his_ name somewhere before was because they had actually met before she had suffered form her sever memory loss.

Gently, the black and white clown wondered over to her as she remained in her contemplative state, his lightly healed boots making small tap sounds as he took each step; he stopped a couple of meters away from her, his frightening grin still plastered on his paper-white face.

"Are you alright?" He asked with a whimsical tone to his voice, like a child at an amusement park. "Those guys didn't hurt you, right?"

Jessie's large, brown eyes stared up at the demon before her as she simply nodded and held herself, suddenly feeling cold; it was as if as Laughing Jack approached her, the air conditioning had been turned up to full blast and she was left with no way of heating herself up - although, she was adamant that the almost destroyed building she was in didn't have a working air conditioning system within its walls. She thought for a moment that the 'hipster' who took her there made terrible taste and must have thought that she was really tacky to bring her to a place like that for them to - as Jessie phrased it in her mind - 'get down with it.'

"Good." Jack replied with happily. "That really was a close call for you. Although, I would've expected you to murder those guys with no problems."

Jessie jolted, her eyes widening. The clown in front of her knew that she was a killer and knew that she had great abilities when it came to killing - even she didn't know that latter statement until that moment - although, she should have guessed when she killed her psychiatrist before running away from the hospital. This must have meant that he knew him before she was taken to the hospital a year ago.

She awkwardly glanced to the ground and muttered to Laughing Jack. "Well...I guess I had a bit of trouble there...I'm not that good at fighting off a bunch of guys who want to rape me."

A bellowing and echoing laugh escaped Jack's mouth as Jessie snapped her neck back up to look at him once more, slightly concerned about his reason for laughing that loudly and that menacingly.

"Well, that's not what BEN told me about you! He said that you were amazing at killing single people or groups, but you were just getting used to being a killer."

Jessie winced. "BEN...?"

Laughing Jack glanced down at her, his expression becoming more serious. "You've lost your memory, right?"

The now curious girl nodded and stayed on her guard - even though she didn't know how much damage she could do to a creature like Laughing Jack. She felt the need to protect herself all of a sudden, keeping in mind that she still had her knife in her hoody pocket if she needed it; it was clear that this clown at least knew _about _her from before she went to the hospital and while she was turning into a murderer, but this was clearly his first time meeting her, since he seemed to be going on information given to him by other people about her. Jessie wondered who these other people were and how they knew her from before she became a killer - she wondered if maybe the guy that she was looking for knew this clown.

"Well..." Jack put his hands on his hips in a more sassy than serious position. "BEN is the only monster from the apartments that you really spoke to before you were going to come and join us there."

"What do you mean? Apartment? Monster?" Jessie queried.

Jack lifted up his finger and placed it in front of Jessie. "Ah, all in good time, my dear. That's not what I came here to tell you." He straightened up and took a deep breathe. "Jessie Walker, now that you have escaped from the mental institution that you were forced into, by murdering your psychiatrist and have now just proven that you would like to kill again by taking that guy who was about to attack you here, I, Laughing Jack, am now inviting you to join the group of murderers and monsters at what we like to call...the apartments!"

Jessie tilted her head in confusion.

"But wait! There's more!" Before Laughing Jack could let Jessie respond, he placed his freakishly large hand around her shoulder, letting his dark claws rest on her and pulled her in uncomfortably close. "The monsters at the apartments already know you because a certain member of our family had discovered you to be a killer long ago, before you were taken away to that mad house and grew that delicious ! Now that you've recovered and are back on tack with your killing, I'm sure that they would want you back by their side!"

Jessie - who was squashed against Jack's side, close to being unable to breathe - jolted and pulled herself away from him, causing Jack to become slightly disappointed due to her clear dislike of close contact with him; Jack may have been a monster, but he was a people-person too and he loved close contact with others, human or fellow monster. "Wait! Is this person a guy?! And does he have a slightly croaky voice, like he smokes?!"

Laughing Jack grinned even harder. "Yes, he is a guy and he does have a croaky voice...and he cares about you a huge amount, Jessie."

She had done it.

She had found a lead to the person that she wanted to find aeend she had only been gone from the hospital for a day; she had accomplished what she was so desperate to do in such a short amount of time due to purely luck and coincidence. The urge to jump for joy was creeping in and she wanted to hug this clown before her as tightly as she could manage and cry to him with genuine happiness and excitment.

She smiled as tears began to form in her eyes. "I...I've found him...I've found him..."

Jack gives her a more sweet smile, concealing his teeth. "Oh? You were looking for him."

"Yes.." She responded quietly. "I've forgotten who he is or what he was to me...but I remember being in love with him and I wanted to find him. It's why I escaped from the hospital."

"Wow..." Jack whistled, clearly impressed. "He'll be so flattered. that won't be good for his ego."

Jessie glanced up at her new savour and asked "Do you think...you could tell me more about him?"

"Sure thing." He responded happily. "What would you like to know?"

Jessie felt coy now that she knew this demon was a good guy and wasn't going to harm her; she forgot about the knife in her pocket for a moment and relaxed her body. "Well, his name would be a good place to start."

"Sure." Laughing Jack replied. "You're going to be shocked though."

"Why?" Jessie asked innocently.

"Well...have you ever heard of Jeff the Killer?"

Jessie froze.

"Wait...what?"

~:~

Jeff was laid down on his bed, his hands behind his head and his eyes staring at the ceiling; he hadn't bothered to change out of his blood-soaked clothes that he walked into the apartment building with, meaning that his once, deep blue bed covers, pillow cases and sheets were covered in the dark, scarlet blood of his city victim. He wasn't too concerned with making the bed a mess - he had done the same thing every time he came back from killing someone in the city for months and BEN had simply stopped scolding him about it since he could tell that Jeff wasn't going to stop anyway. Plus, it wasn't as if BEN minded the smell of blood and human organs in the room - he actually thought that it made the room feel more like a crime scene, which was calming for him, but for arguments sake, he wasn't about to tell Jeff that.

This is how the killer spent most of his time at the apartments when he wasn't walking by the lake nearby, on his own, or he wasn't yelling at the other monsters that lived with him. There wasn't much else that he wanted to do other than sleep, even though dreaming wasn't pleasant for him; every dream he had was either a flashback of something that Jessie and he had experienced together - pleasant or not - or it was a repeating image of the moment where Jessie was about to jump off of the building they were both on the night that Jessie was taken away from him and snatched away from his life - the only thing that he even remotely liked about his dreams was that, at least Jessie was there, by his side, which was a step up from him being awake.

Jeff wasn't even sure how he felt about her anymore. He had spent the last year hating her for what she had done to him by trying to kill herself and leave him alone like that; she had promised him that she would always be there for him and said that she would stay with him forever, and he got his hopes up, thinking that she was the one person who's word he could trust - that wouldn't _lie_ to him - but instead, she said that she couldn't handle the killer life-style, failed to kill her best friends, Sally and Anthony, and decided that she would rather kill herself than live with him and be a murderer like she was destined to be. He couldn't help but despise her for making him believe her words and then stabbing him right in the heart.

Although, for the last few months, he had began to realise certain aspects of how he actually felt. Despite the fact that he knew how much he hated the thought of her coming near him and trying to be close to him again, it was also all that he wanted in this world. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, touch her. He wanted to be with her again, but he felt disgusted at the thought at the same time. He couldn't figure out how he actually felt about her.

Did he hate her or did he still love her?

KNOCK KNOCK

Just as Jeff was hoping that he could just drift off into another dream about Jessie and him, BEN peeked through the door and glanced over to him, acting like a scared child about to ask their parents for something that they know they won't get; the gamer wondered inside of the room and headed straight for Jeff's bed, standing before it when he reached Jeff as he stayed lied down and pretended as of his friend hadn't just walked in - he wasn't in the mood to be talking to anyone right now, not even his best friend.

"Hey." The blond mumbled reluctantly. "How are you doing, Jeff?"

He received no answer. Jeff wasn't up for idle chit-chat these days and didn't answer questions like that anymore - he simply didn't know how to answer them. He wasn't sure what he felt with regard to Jessie or his own well-being. BEN wasn't shocked that he didn't get an answer to his question - he hadn't received any kind of conversation with his best friend for months now - but that didn't mean that he was happy about the fact that Jeff was clearly ignoring him.

"You're covered in blood." The child looked around the room, wondering if Jeff had gotten any crimson liquid on anything else in the shared bedroom. Nothing else had even a drop of blood on it. That was good. He may have liked the smell of blood, but blood-stains were difficult to get out of sheets or clothes. "So's your bed. What the hell happened out there in the city?"

Still no answer.

The teenage killer wondered why BEN was even bothering to try and get any kind of speech out of him when he had seen the pattern for the last few months. He wasn't going to answer him whether he wanted him to or not.

BEN sighed. "Look, I came in here because Eyeless Jack and I were going to go out and make a quick kill. I know that you just came back from one, but that doesn't mean that you can't come with and have some fun. What do you say?"

There was still nothing but silence coming from Jeff.

BEN didn't expect him to want to come with them - he had only wanted to go and kill people by himself so that he could go crazy and simply do what needed to be done and come back to the apartments. He may have been losing himself to his actions, but he was certainly more organised and on the ball with his scheduling as a murderer than he ever was since Jessie left him. That was something that BEN and Slenderman had asked him to try and do, but now that he was actually doing it, BEN wanted him to go back to being clumsy and a complete mess with organisation.

The Link-lookalike didn't move an inch. He simply stood there, clenching his fists and wondering when his best friend would actually talk to him and treat him as if he was actually standing right in front of him. It felt to him as if whenever he was right in Jeff's face, speaking to him face-to-face, that Jeff wasn't seeing him at all - all that murderer could ever see was Jessie's face and it depressed him to the point of not wanting to speak.

He had supported their relationship in the beginning because he could see that Jeff clearly cared deeply for this girl - Jeff had never cared about anything before, so Jessie must've really meant something to him - and he could see that Jessie wanted to be a killer like Jeff, but he never thought in a million years that she would just leave Jeff and stay being a normal human and that she would want nothing more than to live a normal life again. Slender erasing her memory at least meant that she wouldn't have to live with the memory of killing her loved ones - even if she found out about her actions.

"You know..." BEN began. "I've been watching you for this whole year, Jeff. I've been trying my best to watch out for you and make sure that you're alright when all anyone else did was leave you alone. I think that I deserve for you to at least _look _at me."

Nothing changed. Jeff still stared up at the ceiling, trying to create the illusion that BEN wasn't actually there. This infuriated BEN all the more.

"I said...LOOK AT ME!"

Jeff didn't move an inch at BEN's outburst. Tears formed in the young killers eyes as he stared at the floor and let them fall.

He remembered the days when Jeff would listen to every word he said and looked him straight in the eyes when he spoke to him; Jeff had always been the type of person to always want to make his point clear and his most famous way of doing that was looking the person that he was speaking to in the eye and telling them straight up what he was saying and what he thought. BEN always knew how Jeff felt and what he was thinking, but nowadays he knew nothing about how Jeff felt or what he thought. It was as if all of the killer's confidence was gone and he was nothing but a shell of his former self.

It was killing BEN to see his best friend like that.

"All you do is sit there, thinking. You won't even look at me, let alone talk to me. You're not acting like the Jeff that I used to know. All I want...all I want.." BEN shut his eyes and shouted. "ALL I WANT IS MY BEST FRIEND BACK!"

He ran out of the room, crying hysterically. Jeff stayed in the exact same position, not showing any inkling of caring that his best friend had just been reduced to tears and practically run away from him - the wasn't the case at all. Of course he cared about BEN and how he felt, but at that moment, he couldn't show any signs of caring for anything other than Jessie - he couldn't help it. All of his energy was going towards filling in the gaps for when he wasn't with her - he knew that the gap would never be completely filled and that he would have to do this for the rest of his life and the only thing preventing him from killing himself was the pathetic thought that maybe, just maybe, he would see Jessie again.

Even if it was for an instant.

She could be released from her hospital one day and sent to live in the outside world like an ordinary person again, and then one day, when he was wondering around the city, he would see her, just walking around - maybe she would be meeting her new friends, or even trying to rekindle her friendship with Anthony, but she would be there nonetheless. If that happened, then at least he could see for her for a moment.

He was living for that moment.

One of the most distinct memories he had of Jessie wasn't an event that was significant in anyway, but it was something that allowed him to know that she cared about him and thought about him all the time - at least, that's what it seemed like.

The early morning after they first made love, just before he went to grab John and his friends to prepare her to kill them for what they did to her, he was getting dressed next to Jessie's bed, watching her dream happily she he threw his jeans on clumsily. He thought that she was adorable when she slept - her steady breathing mixed in with the creamy, chocolatey skin of hers and the slightly hints of early sunlight seeping through the curtains that shone on her made her look like an absolute angel. Maybe he should have seen the hint that she wasn't a killer then, but he didn't pay too much attention to that back then.

As he put his hoody on and placed his trusty kitchen knife into his pocket, completing his trademark outfit, he glanced over once more to his love, giving her one last stare before he was about to leave her house and take the next step in her killer-training. Before he could even leave the room he heard her gentle voice behind him.

"Jeff..."

He rotated, expecting her to be waking up and for him to be busted for trying to leave the house - he couldn't explain to her what he was doing since it would cause her to say that she didn't want to kill John and his friends, ruining the whole plan. Although, he was pleasantly surprised to see her in the exact same position that she was in when he was about to leave - she had been talking in her sleep.

She had been dreaming of him.

Jeff sighed softly and smiled sweetly at his lover in slumber. To him, she really was an angel.

He had no idea why she would fall for someone like him - he wasn't exactly what normal girls would consider attractive. His face and skin would make women turn the other way most of the time - unless they were prostitutes or slutty women who wanted a thrill and decided to gather that thrill by having sex with a famous killer. His personality was even uglier than this appearance; he became angry quickly and always succumbed to the worst kind of sins known to man without even blinking - not that he _could_ blink. Most people would run away from him considering who he was anyway, so human contact wasn't something that he was used to - unless it was as he was ripping them apart. He felt lucky that such a kind, caring, beautiful girl had actually found their way into his heart - as black as it was - and was someone who actually understood his need to kill and wanted to become a killer like him someday.

Instinct caused him to wonder quietly towards the bed and lean over and planted a small kiss on Jessie's forehead. A few moments later, he silently made his escape from her house and wondered away to grab John and his rapist buddies.

Every time Jeff thought about this memory, he either wanted to tear his surroundings apart and destroy everything in sight, or he wanted to curl up in a ball and bawl like a baby. Today, he was going to go for curling up in a ball. He had destroyed so much of the motel room he was in during his trip to the city that he didn't think that it was necessary for his recovery anymore.

He assumed the position and curled up, tears filling his eyes. His cries when he was upset rather than angry had recently become barely audible. He didn't know whether that was because he subconsciously didn't want anyone to hear him cry so that his reputation wouldn't be destroyed - even though his wasn't exactly the best reputation at the moment considering how he was acting towards his friends - or because he just didn't want anyone to help him because he knew that he was a lost cause.

He quietly sobbed to himself, knowing that he must have looked pathetic and was glad that no one was there, watching him.

"Jessie..." he mumbled. "I wish you were here...I miss you...I miss you..."


End file.
